


Conundrum

by subjunctive



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Jon is obviously Asha's boytoy, POV Asha, Porn Without Plot, Possessiveness, Vaginal Sex, Wake-Up Sex, and he likes it that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8764660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/pseuds/subjunctive
Summary: Bedding Jon Snow requires a certain persistence, and no small amount of coaxing. Like persuading a wild animal to come near. Except it’s really the other way round, returning some long-tamed creature to its natural state. It’s a good thing the results are worthwhile, else she wouldn’t bother.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You can read the wake-up sex as having whatever level of consent you prefer.
> 
> Written for gameofshipschallenges Until Hell Freezes Over challenge. Lightly revised from the Tumblr version.

Every night Jon Snow sneaks into her cabin, and every night he sneaks right back out before sunrise.

Asha isn’t going to stand for it any longer.

He’s an early riser, but so is she. She takes a moment to study her quarry in the low light that comes in through the porthole. She prefers to sleep in the nude, but he always pulls his breeches back on after. It could be the same inconvenient sense of propriety that causes him to come to her cabin so late she’s nearly already asleep half the time. Or it could be habit. Before he was Asha’s new favorite plaything, he lived far north, all the way at the Wall. Maybe she has those breeches to thank for the fact that he still has his balls. If so, she silently sends the worn, threadbare fabric her gratitude.

But either way they’ve got to go, now.

He’s a light sleeper, but Asha’s an expert at this dance. Two flicks of her wrist untie and loosen the laces with only the lightest of pressure; another movement eases the fabric down and tucks it gently beneath his balls. He already has his morning cockstand, and Asha plans to take advantage of it.

He only shifts a little restlessly when she pushes back his foreskin and seals her lips around the head of his shaft. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, an almost-childish whine. It’s a sound that weak things make, and he’d never do it consciously; she likes it. She starts off soft, wetting him with her tongue and moving in slow strokes, until his hips jerk in a quick pop that slides his cock deeper in her mouth and makes her groan.

Asha pins his narrow hips back to the cot with her arms while he grunts and pushes himself to his elbows. He’s awake, but his face is still slack with sleep, and his unrepentant stare and wild hair and open mouth send a wave of heat through her cunt. She could take him now, if she wanted to. But she doesn’t yet.

Bedding Jon Snow requires a certain persistence, and no small amount of coaxing. Like persuading a wild animal to come near. Except it’s really the other way round, returning some long-tamed creature to its natural state. It’s a good thing the results are worthwhile, else she wouldn’t bother.

He’s a difficult creature to convince, but Asha’s not without her tricks. She slides her mouth down his shaft until he bumps the back of her throat. His gasp is half-wild, and Asha would smile, but. Well. Instead she breathes in through her nose and relaxes her throat and swallows him down all the way to the root.

He makes a sound like a sob, which he would surely deny if given the chance, but Asha hoards it for herself like a secret treasure found reaving. Now there’s a sound to keep her warm on cold nights, along with the memory of the heel of his hand on the back of her head, pushing down while he squirms underneath her, this man who pretends he cannot be moved.

She pulls herself off with a wet noise, takes a few breaths, and dives down to play with his balls in little licks and sucks while he makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, his fingers twisting in her short hair.

“Asha--”

He sounds like the breath’s been knocked out of him. Good. Asha takes mercy on him, swallowing him back down until he’s close, so close he’ll do anything.

“ _Asha_ \--”

This time his growl is angry, but she ignores it as she wends her way up his body. When they’re face to face, his hips buck against her. She kisses the corner of his mouth, polite, almost chaste.

“First you do something for me,” she tells him, avoiding the press of his cock against her cunt. It’s almost too tempting, the idea of sinking down on him and riding him, but she doesn’t want to be distracted.

The tip of his tongue darts out to touch his upper lip. “What?” he says hoarsely. His dark eyes are glazed over with lust and, she imagines, a smidge of willful resentment.

She taps his mouth with a finger, chasing the organ that’s disappeared. “There you go, Snow. You’ve figured it out.” She doesn’t let him say anything else, just swings a thigh over his face and settles over him, a finger’s-span from his lips. This close and she can feel each puff of breath wafting over her cunt in a deliciously cool whisper.

His hands settle on her hips, but he’s not without his little rebellions. “Well?” he asks, tipping his head back slightly to eye her, as if he’s not dying to eat her cunt. As if he doesn’t fucking love every gods-blessed second of it.

Asha grits her teeth and winds her fingers through his hair, tugging him up to meet her. He’ll have a sore neck soon, but that’s his problem. “ _Well_ ,” she says on half a gasp, “get to it.”

Working him over like she did must have put him in quite a state, because Jon dives in like a famished man. It’s _he_ who moans when he pushes his tongue between her lips and fucks her with it, before pulling back to suck her pearl into his hot mouth and lap eagerly at her. The force of the sensation makes her toes curl, makes the backs of her thighs tighten and burn. She might even let loose a moan or two herself, though surely they’re drowned out by his own desperate sounds.

She reaches her first peak quickly, Asha coming silently in little jerks, sucking in breaths through her nose and swallowing so she doesn’t shout. When she opens her eyes and looks down at him, he radiates smugness, his gaze muddy with self-satisfaction. One of his hands leaves her to journey south, no doubt intending to arrive at his own poor, neglected cock.

“I don’t think so,” she says, more breathlessly than she would like, but it doesn’t matter: her grip is like an iron band around his wrist, and his movement ceases immediately.

“What,” he asks with a low edge to his voice, licking his lips, “is it you want from me?” 

It’s not the first time he’s asked, and she doesn’t expect it to be the last. Truth be told, she’s not sure she even has an answer for him.

She tugs his other hand from her hip, where it’s stroking softly over her skin in a counterpoint to his anger, and pins both his hands loosely next to her knees. He could break free easily if he tried. She knows he doesn't want to. “Don’t worry,” she murmurs, “I’ll get to you eventually. Probably.”

His snarl is covered by her cunt sliding over his face. This time she bears down him, rubbing herself against that long nose and hard chin, and he has to work to keep up. His hands close over her own, but he doesn’t try to dislodge her, just squeezes, strokes, makes something stutter and warm in her chest. _Fuck you,_ she thinks savagely, and wonders if she could suffocate him like this.

But if she suffocated him, he wouldn’t be able to bring her such pleasure. It’s a conundrum. He knows what he’s about, Jon Snow does, and it’s not long before she’s close again and wanting something else, something more. When she extricates herself from his mouth, he only stares at her stupidly for a moment with a mouth wet and shiny and panting. She smirks. Before he can come up with another reaction, she slides down to straddle his hips. His cock hasn’t flagged at all, still standing proud and straight, and she’s so fucking wet and ready it only takes a moment to sink down on him all the way.

He shouts, and Asha surely makes a sound too, for her throat burns after. But she can’t bring herself to care. Her muscles clench down on him tight, and every time she moves it sends delicious ripples through her.

It sets something loose and wild in him, too, for now he’s forgetting his manners, yanking her forward against him and digging his fingers into her ass and thrusting into her with a force she’s never felt from him. His other hand pulls her face to his, and their teeth click together, and it’s hardly even a kiss, more of a hot press of open mouths, both of them swallowing each other’s moans while he fucks her with quick sharp jerks that rub against her perfectly until she peaks again, and he with her, as she squeezes around him and milks out every last drop and wrings him dry and takes and takes and takes.

She allows herself a few moments to savor it, all of it--his hands stroking gently over her, the sweat-slickness of his long hard body moving against hers as they breathe and sigh together, his cock slowly softening inside her, an equal softness stealing over his gaze as he looks at her--before she rolls off him and away.

Before he can say anything to ruin it, Asha gives an exaggerated, satisfied sigh, aimed at the ceiling. “That’s what I want from you, Snow, and don’t forget it.”

“That’s all, is it?” Equal parts amusement and something else, something she doesn’t want to identify, lace his voice.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting soft on me, Snow.”

“In point of fact, I think I am,” he says dryly, and the unexpected jape catches her under the ribs and makes her laugh.

When he leaves her cabin in a little while, everyone will know where he was. Who he belongs to. He knows, too, even if he won’t admit it. She won’t have him forever, she won’t even have him much longer, but she wants him now, and she’ll keep him for as long as she can.

**Author's Note:**

> say hello at [tumblr](http://subjunctivemood.tumblr.com)


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